


Breathe

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: No Yesterdays [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Stargate - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stargate Fusion, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 00:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: “Hey.”Trevor looks up to see Alfredo leaning against the open doorway, frown on his face as he takes in Trevor’s no doubt alluring appearance. (Strange how self-care falls to the wayside in times like this.)“You look like shit.”





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Anon who wanted some Alfreyco in my Stargate AU. :D?

Trevor presses the heel of his hand to his eye as pain spikes in his head, darts a glance at the bottle of aspirin sitting there all nice ad tempting but can’t remember the last time he took some. 

Can’t remember much of anything, really, other than this impossible task he’s been given. (Gave to himself, because half his team is missing and that just won’t do.) 

Snatched away from a research site while Trevor was overseeing the transport of samples and fancy alien technology to their labs back at the SGC.

Not even half an hour gone by and a cut off distress signal and staticky broadcast from Michael before they lost contact, the Stargate on their side shutting down without warning.

By the time they reestablished contact, sent a probe through, they were nowhere to be found.

Ample evidence there was a fight of some kind, dead scientists and several military personal. Ryan and Michael missing and some odd little alien gadget left behind Trevor hasn’t been able to make heads or tails out of.

“Hey.”

Trevor looks up to see Alfredo leaning against the open doorway, frown on his face as he takes in Trevor’s no doubt alluring appearance. (Strange how self-care falls to the wayside in times like this.)

“You look like shit.”

Such sweet nothings from his dearest Fredo.

“Well,” Trevor says, and doesn’t quite know how to follow up with that. “Yes.”

Alfredo snorts, pushing off against the door frame. He looks tired, like the General’s been sending him and every available volunteer out to look for the rest of their odd little team at every available opportunity.

Team after team of volunteers streaming through the Stargate in search of their missing people and nary a clue as to their whereabouts to be found.

Alfredo and Lindsay leading the charge, as it were, pushing themselves harder than anyone else out there because they know better than anyone else the odds stacked against them with each passing moment. 

All the enemies the SGC has amassed over the years and more waiting in the wings to be discovered. 

Unintentional cultural misunderstandings that spin out of control in the blink of an eye, or devil’s deals with the Goa’uld the SGC doesn’t know about until it’s too late and a trap has been sprung. Other variables and it’s enough to make a man wonder why they keep doing what they do. (Almost.)

Ryan and Michael out there who knows where by now in the clutches of someone or other and not a goddamned thing anyone can do about it except _hope_.

There’s a soft snuffle from the couch against the far wall, and Trevor and Alfredo look over. Watch Gavin sleeping fitfully after Trevor forced him to get some rest after who knows how many hours awake. Starting to make stupid mistakes, hands shaking and this desperate look to him that was hard to bear.

He doesn’t wake, and Trevor breaths out a sigh of relief. Gavin's earned his rest, needs all he can get because he has poor sleeping habits as it is and this latest crisis is doing him no favors.

“Hey,” Alfredo says, gently taking the scanner Trevor’s gotten a death grip on out of his hands. “We’re going to find them, okay?”

Trevor snorts, because the odds of their teammates being alive are slim to none by this point.

Too stubborn, mouthy, those two. Likely to sass whoever grabbed them one time too many and humans are ever so fragile.

Can take a beating and keep on ticking, sure, but they’re not invulnerable and there are so many ways to kill them. (So many enemies who’d draw it out just for the hell of it.)

“Of course we will,” Trevor says, hears the exhaustion in his voice as he does. “And we’ll find a stockpile of ZPMs we can send on through to Atlantis while we’re at it.”

Come up with a surefire plan to defeat the Goa’uld, put an end to the threat the NID poses. Solve every problem the SGC has faced in its existence all at the same time, good guys save the day.

_Hooray._

Alfredo stares at him for a long moment, and shakes his head. This tired little laugh and a hand coming down on Trevor’s shoulder, gently little squeeze meant to convey reassurance, understanding. All those things and more besides, thumb brushing Trevor's neck..

“Okay,” he says, soft, wry. “Alright. Time to take a break, Trevor.”

He can’t. Too much work to be done still, crack the mystery of this little mystery gadget that had been left at the scene of the crime, so to speak, in the hopes it might give them some answers.

“Yeah no,” Alfredo says, firmer this time as he bullies Trevor to his feet, no give to any of it even though he hasn’t lost that smile. “You let Gav have a break.”

That’s _different_.

Gavin works harder than people realize, runs on less sleep than Trevor does half the tie and anyway, anyway, _he’s_ not the reason - 

“Trevor.”

Trevor’s train of thought derails, screeches off into oblivion at Alfredo’s tone of voice. Firm, unyielding, not about to to let some stupid little scientist overrule him.

“You need a break,” Alfredo says, catching Trevor’s eyes. “Just for a little bit, okay? Let that big ol’ brain of yours recharge, and then you and Gavin can get back to it.”

Trevor blinks, glances at Gavin and sees Lindsay talking to him quietly. Sees the curve of her smile from this angle, snorts at her threat of tattling to Michael on him if he doesn’t get up and Gavin’s sleepy protest.

“One hour,” Trevor says, because he’s so tired, and he trusts Alfredo to know his limits better than he does sometimes. “Just a little nap, Fredo, and then I’m back here figuring the doodad out.”

Scientific term, that. 

Alien doodads and doohickeys, a specialty of his these days. (Sometimes he dabbles in thingamabobs.)

Alfredo nods, makes this little noise in his throat like _yes, yes, absolutely Trevor_ as though he isn’t humoring the half-mad scientist under his watch.

“Why don’t we give Harper a crack at it until then, yeah?” he asks, tipping his head towards the door to Trevor’s lab where said scientist is standing.

Knows how much is resting on their shoulders if they hope to get the others back and more than capable of bearing the weight for a short while. There are others behind her in the hallway, more volunteers because their people are counting on them and this is the best part of the SGC, he thinks, these people.

Trevor looks up at Alfredo, feels himself smile at the raised eyebrow.

Cocky bastard, Alfredo.

Thinks up his crafty little plans and all the confidence in the world they’ll work. 

Trevor gets his feet under him, lets Alfredo take over for a bit. Go over to Harper and the others while he helps Lindsay get Gavin up and moving. Still half asleep, hair going every which way and they’re quite a motley little group, his team.

That vise that’s had a grip on his heart since they got word something had gone wrong squeezes just that much more because they’re missing a few key pieces, aren't they.

“Stop thinkin’ so much, Alfredo says, easing up next to Trevor to place a guiding hand on his elbow as he escorts him to the elevators. “You’re going to break something.”

Trevor rolls his eyes, reluctant smile tugging at his mouth for the old joke between them. (Trevor and Alfredo exploring another planet and all kinds of new shinies to play with and no idea what any of it was beyond exciting as hell.)

“I’m a scientist,” he says, careful, deliberate enunciation. “Thinking is what I _do_ , man.”

Alfredo slides a look at him, and yes, okay. Not his best comeback.

Not back then, and certainly not now.

“Yeah, well.” Alfredo shrugs, stepping back to let another group of scientists out of the elevator when the doors open. Polite little greetings and the like, and then he's gently ushering Trevor inside once it's empty, Lindsay and Gavin slipping in behind them. “Take it down a notch for now, okay? We’ve got it covered.”

Trevor sighs, because Alfredo’s not wrong.

The SGC only recruits the best and brightest, and anyone not up to the job?

Well.

The learning curve here is far too steep, and they’ve lost far too many good people over the years. The ones who are still with them have proven to be remarkably resilient and resourceful. Harder to kill than most out of sheer pigheaded stubbornness. (Ryan and Michael are prime examples.)

“I’ll see what I can do,” Trevor says, ignoring Alfredo’s tired little laugh because it really is the best he can promise for now.


End file.
